


I Do Believe (In Prank Wars)

by pikasafire



Series: Well, Fancy That [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Crack, Faeries - Freeform, Gen, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris Letang just has one of those innocent faces. Marc Andre Fleury does not.</p><p>Technically part of the ‘Well, Fancy That’ universe but can stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do Believe (In Prank Wars)

**Author's Note:**

> Silly, pointless little fic, born of too much caffeine, that's technically part of the ‘Well, Fancy That’ universe but can stand alone. This is entirely the fault of masterpenguin for sending me [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/040d743814cf70f8c82fdba65ab788df/tumblr_mj9hd18F9R1r3mlk0o1_500.png) picture.

*

There’s shaving cream in everyone’s shoes.

It's not anything special or unique. Really, it's one of those stupid pranks that makes everyone groan when they enter the locker room, rolling their eyes with good-natured grumbling.

"Nice try, Sunshine." Pascal says, clapping the rookie on the shoulder. "Did you learn this in juniors?"

"It wasn't me." Beau says, eyes wide and innocent. "Seriously."

Cookie snorts, shoves Beau into a locker on his way past. "Yeah, right."

There's the ribbing and punches to Beau's arm. "Fucking hell, rookie. Come up with something original next time."

Flower's the only one who notices the small grin on Kris' face.

*

Kris isn't exactly the biggest prankster in the locker room. In fact, Flower's pretty sure that Kris has never actually pulled a prank. Or if he has, he's never been caught.

So when Sid's Crocs are bedazzled, covered in bright pink and blue plastic gems, Marc's not entirely sure why he looks immediately to Kris. Kris is just watching quietly, a grin on his face, as Sidney comes into the locker room.

"What the fuck?" Sid demands, stopping in front of his locker and staring down in bewilderment. "Who touched my shoes?"

"They're not shoes, dude." Cookie calls across the room, grinning wide, "They're fucking _Crocs_."

Sidney brandishes the Crocs in Cookie's direction. "Did you do this?"

Cookie holds up his hands placatingly. "No way, man. I learned last time not to touch your shit."

Sidney never deals well with people changing things, especially before a game. But everyone else is laughing as Sidney slips his shiny Crocs on, storming angrily over to the showers.

"It was you, Duper." Sid says after practice, sounding overly sure of himself. "You're gonna pay for that."

"It wasn't me!" Pascal protests, but he's laughing. "Honest."

Sid picks up the offending Crocs, throws them across the locker room at Pascal's head. "Like I'm going to believe that." Sidney mutters.

Flower sidles up the Kris after most of the guys have cleared out. "How the fuck did you manage that? Without anyone seeing?"

"Manage what?"

"Sid's Crocs."

"That was Duper."

“No, seriously. I _know_ it was you.”

Kris just grins at him, looking far too amused as he tightens his shoelaces. “Yeah? Prove it.”

“Come _on_ ," Kris is clearly missing the whole _point_ of him asking. "Let me in on it.”

The look Kris gives him is wide eyed and innocent. "In on what?"

Jesus fucking Christ.

*

A bunch of the guys are crowded around Sunshine's locker when Marc gets in a few days later, laughter echoing around the locker room. 

Marc pokes his head around, grinning as he sees the assortment of porn hung all over the stall. "He's coming." Kris hisses, poking his head into the locker room. Everyone scatters, sitting quietly in their seats, tugging at gear, examining equipment, all of them watching Beau carefully.

"What-?" Beau starts, dropping his bag at his stall. And then he realises what it is, "Oh my _God_." and it's the way he turns tomato red, horrified, that makes the locker room erupt into hysterical laughter.

Beau tears a few of them down, blushing, and there's a round of cat-calls and chirping.

"Never seen pussy before?" Someone shouts.

"Just some educational material, rookie." Someone else calls.

There's noisy teasing until Dan shouts over the din for them all to get their asses on the ice.

Marc zeroes in on Kris as soon as he can. "Okay, that was definitely you. That was fucking awesome, how'd you do it?" Marc asks, tapping Kris' shins as he skates past.

Kris shrugs, circles around. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No. Seriously." Marc scowls, when there's a lull in the practice. "It's bugging the shit out of me. "I'm starting to think that you're some weird-ass trickster or something. Like, Geno can talk to animals, but your magic power is, like, pranks or something."

"You know about Geno?" Kris says, guarded in a way he never is around Marc. "You shouldn't know about that."

Marc tries not to look as hurt as he feels. "Of course I do. I'm not an idiot. They're not nearly as secretive as they think they are." Realisation dawns, "You're one of them," he whispers excitedly.

"Shut up." Kris snaps. "After practice." And he skates away before Marc can say anything else.

Beau tracks Marc down a few minutes later, taps him harder than necessary on his shins. "Gonna get you back for that, Fleury," he says.

"It wasn't me!" Marc protests. "It was Kris."

Beau just rolls his eyes, "Yeah. Okay." He says, disbelief obvious. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"It was!"

Marc's pretty much dying of curiosity for the rest of practice but restrains himself, waiting until most people are out of the locker room after practice before sliding over to Kris. "So." He whispers overexcited. "How does it work? What are you? Are, you, like, a... trickster or something?"

"You've been watching too much Supernatural." Kris mutters. "No. I'm a faerie."

Marc manages about three seconds of keeping a straight face before he loses it, laughing hard enough that he falls easily when Kris shoves him off the bench.

"It's not that funny, dick-face."

"Okay." Marc says, when he's calmed down enough to manage a few sentences without laughing. “Okay, so you're a faerie." He snickers a little, "How did that happen? How do you _become_ a faerie?”

“How do you _become_ a human?” Kris demands, rolling his eyes. "I ws born this way. Don't be so fucking stupid."

Marc grins, "Sunshine blamed me for the prank today."

"One of the perks," Kris says, a smile with far too much teeth. "No one ever knows it's me."

"Fucking _awesome_."

*

Marc insists on choosing the next prank.

It's pretty obvious. But it's Dan Potash's birthday and, as Marc argues, they can't do _nothing_.

Plus, Marc wants to see how well this 'never blamed for anything' thing works.

"Just go up there and shove it in his face," Marc says, voice a little shrill in his excitement.

Kris just gives him a long suffering look. "Seriously? Shaving cream pie? That's the best you can come up with?"

"Come _on_ , it's classic!"

Kris relents, "Jesus. _Fine_."

They set up and Marc can't resist poking his head around the door, watching Kris dart in, shoving the shaving cream into Dan's face and cracking up at the bewildered expression on Dan's face. He high fives Kris on his way past. "That was _awesome_."

"It was something," Kris agrees, but he's grinning.

Cookie grins at him, "Bit obvious, Flower." he says as they re-enter the locker room.

Marc looks up, startled. "It wasn't me! It was Tanger!"

"Don't try and blame your bad pranks on someone else," Pascal says, shoving Marc playfully as he passes, "Lame."

"But, it wasn't!"

Kris just sits down in his stall and laughs.

*

When Marc arrives at the rink the next week, all the liquid soap's been replaced with maple syrup.

“You are a God.” Marc says, looking awe struck.

“Faerie.” Kris corrects, but he's grinning.

Marc decided it would've been more awesome if Coach didn't make him clean out all the dispensers after practice. "It was Tanger!" Marc insists.

No one believes him.

Faerie powers are fucking _awesome_.

*

Geno's only been back for about fifteen minutes into his first practice before he skates over to Flower, tapping his pads.

"Don't mess with Kris." Geno says.

Marc laughs, but Geno's not smiling. "What does _that_ mean?"

Geno rolls his eyes. "He's faerie." He says, like that explains everything. "You know that."

"I know."

Geno just stares at him for a moment before throwing his arms up in the air, "I warned you." He says as he walks away, shaking his head like Flower's hopeless.

It's fine, right? Marc and Kris are buddies. Marc's totally safe.

*

The locker-room is suspiciously silent.

Marc looks around when he walks in, pausing at the doors. "What?" he asks warily.

"Nothing," Cookie says innocently. Marc narrows his eyes; when Matt Cooke is trying to look innocent, _something_ is up.

He walks carefully to his stall, keeping an eye out for stray skates, trip wires or booby traps. Nothing. Then he looks at his stall. "... Where's my gear?" He looks over at Sidney, who's staring up; follows Sid's line of sight up to the ceiling.

Where all of his gear has been duct taped. "What the _fuck_?"

There's a flurry of activity, muffled laughter, everyone getting dressed.

"Nice try," Sidney says, giving Marc's shoulder a friendly punch. "C'mon, get organised. Get on the ice."

Marc's baffled. "How am I supposed to get my gear down?"

"You got it up there," Pascal points out, tapping Marc's naked shins on his way past, and _ow_ , not cool. "I'm sure you can get it down."

"But-" Marc stands there, staring up at the ceiling in bewilderment, "How would I have done that? It wasn't me."

"Uh-huh," Cookie shoves him playfully, "Whatever you say.'

What the fuck? "No, really. Why the fuck would I prank myself?"

The others all grin at him as they pass, shoving him or tapping him until, eventually, everyone's gone except for Kris, who's still sitting in his stall, lacing his skates and looking over at Marc with a shit eating grin on his face.

"You did this." Flower says, narrowing his eyes. "Asshole."

"I would never do such a thing," Kris says innocently, eyes wide. He stands, grabbing his gloves. "Good luck getting them down."

Fucking hell. Kris is the _worst_.

Marc's left, standing alone in the locker room, staring up at his gear. "Seriously? Guys? _Guys!_.”

*

END


End file.
